


Ghosts of the Past

by zestycheck (breathingfire)



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Blood, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Past Abuse, M/M, Post-Canon, Self-Harm, alcohol use, but ppl told me to tag that just in case, kinda??? its complicated, sazed is talked about a lot but doesnt make an appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 18:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12753672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathingfire/pseuds/zestycheck
Summary: It’s storming. Sazed hates it when it’s storming.--Or; a passing thunderstorm takes Taako on a rather unpleasant journey.





	Ghosts of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> finally posting a thing for the first time in a million years, geez
> 
> shoutout to bepsi and hellfireandbaddecisions on the taz fic writers discord for beta reading this c:
> 
> also krav was a bard pre-death

It’s storming. Sazed hates it when it’s storming; they have to cancel any shows they were planning to do, so no money that day. (They tried to hold a show in a thunderstorm  _ once; _ it didn’t end terribly well for anyone.) So now they’re in a town with nothing to do and no money to do it with; regardless, Sazed always finds some gold somewhere to go get wasted at a local pub. Taako usually stays at the wagon, practicing for the next show, happy for a few hours of reprieve before Sazed inevitably comes back sopping wet and belligerently drunk.

So storms have become a mixed bag of emotions and associations for Taako. He gets a few hours of alone time to work on recipes and presentational flair, but he also has to deal with his anxiety about when Sazed will be back and how bad he'll be this time. 

Taako was perfecting his recipe for macarons, whipping the ingredients together in a large mixing bowl, when thunder seemed to rip through the night, shaking the walls and spooking him so hard he dropped the bowl, hearing it shatter. He heard it rather than saw it because, at the same time, the lantern in the kitchen blew out (he’d been trying to get Sazed to fix that drafty window for  _ weeks _ ), the sudden change of lighting momentarily blinding him before his nightvision kicked in.

_ Oh fuck, he's going to be so angry when he gets back _ , Taako thought as he hurriedly knelt down to pick up the largest chunks.

Suddenly the door slammed open, from the wind or from anger, Taako couldn't tell. In a panic, he grabbed as much of the mess as he could and shoved it into the garbage, running his hands along the floor to try to get as much flour and ceramic as he could. He felt his hands hurt but it didn't matter.  _ Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck _ , he thought, the pain from his hands and the overwhelming anxiety squeezing out preemptive, frightened tears. _ He's gonna kill me. _

“Taako?”

Taako's ears perked up. That wasn't Sazed. He knew that voice… but from where?

There was a man in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a candle. Taako threw up a hand to shield his eyes for a moment as they adjusted again. He heard the stranger suck in a breath. Suddenly the man was very close, kneeling in the ground in front of him, examining Taako's hands; which was when Taako himself noticed they were covered in blood.

“Taako, what happened?” the man asked, almost a whisper, looking into his eyes with concern clearly written on his face. A face Taako  _ knew, _ but from  _ where? _ Some part of Taako wanted to trust this stranger — maybe because of the gentle way he handled him, or the way that he felt so familiar for some reason — but he knew logically that Sazed would be back soon, and would be even angrier to see a strange man in his wagon. And also he's a  _ stranger. _ In  _ his wagon. _ So he pulled his hands out of the man's grasp.

“Who are you?” Taako asked, scrambling away from the man until his back hit cabinets. “I know magic! I'm  _ dangerous!” _ he yelled, even though his wand was nowhere in sight, so defending himself would be tricky.

But the man didn't approach him, didn't try to hurt him, or do anything else. There were a few seconds of silence, save for the rumble of thunder outside, where the two of them just stared at each other. The man just looked hurt. Finally, he said, “Taako, it's me.

“It's Kravitz.”

_ It's Kravitz. _

It's  _ Kravitz _ , and it's been more than a decade since the Day of Story and Song.

It's Kravitz, and Sazed is in prison, has been in prison for almost as long.

Taako buried his face in his hands. He heard Kravitz make a strangled noise, and he remembered too late how his hands were covered in blood and ceramic shards. He let out a choked sob. “I'm sorry…”

“Taako, it's okay —”

“It's  _ not _ okay, I _ forgot  _ you! How could I forget you?!” His voice was on the edge of hysterics.

He felt gentle fingers tugging his hands away from his face, and he let them. He looked up into Kravitz's face, still full of concern, and before he could think about it, he pulled him in for a kiss. His mouth was cold, colder than usual, and Taako shivered, but he kept going. He wanted to —  _ needed to _ — confirm everything was real.

Kravitz was the one who pulled away first, gently holding his hands again, palms up, and now that Taako's mind was no longer clouded by fear or adrenaline, he could very clearly feel his palms throbbing in pain. He hissed in a breath.

“Let's get you cleaned up,” Kravitz murmured, helping Taako to his feet awkwardly. Kravitz lead him to the bathroom, where Taako finally got a good look at himself. His hands were covered in blood and ceramic splinters, and there was blood smeared all over his face. He looked about as frazzled as he felt. He turned towards Kravitz, and was momentarily concerned that he also had blood smeared on his face, until he realized that it was his own blood, smeared from the kiss. Then he just felt a little dumb.

Kravitz put the toilet lid down and helped Taako settle on it, then began digging under the sink for the medkit they kept for emergencies. Usually their emergencies are more along the lines of “Angus fell and scraped his knees” but, well. Taako chuckled a bit as he watched him. “You know, the whole bloody face sitch really fits the whole reaper aesthetic.”

Kravitz looked confused, then glanced in the mirror; he huffed a laugh then wiped his face with a wet rag. He then began gently wiping at Taako's face, the warm rag becoming gradually redder. Taako hissed as the rag tugged on his cheek; Kravitz's eyebrows knit together as he turned and dug around in the medkit for a pair of tweezers. “You got one in your face,” he whispered as an explanation, whispering apologies as Taako hissed in pain again.

The next few moments passed in silence, save for the drip of blood from his hands hitting the floor and the rumble of thunder outside. Kravitz finished cleaning up Taako's face, made sure no other shards were there, then cleaned the rag and moved on to his hands. He pointedly did not mention or ask about what happened, and Taako was grateful.

After a few more minutes of hissing in pain and whispered apologies (and one particularly painful splinter that buried itself under Taako's skin and had to be dug out), Taako's hands were free of ceramic. They still throbbed in pain, but he found it was strangely comforting.

Then Kravitz gently held both of Taako's hands in his and started to hum up a tune. Taako felt the first tingles of magic. He whipped his hands away.

“No,” Taako mumbled, “no magic. Bandages.”

“What, why?” Kravitz asked, confused. This wasn't the first time he's healed Taako, so he must know he's competent at it.

“Because, it's… because,” Taako replied, losing the words. “Just do it, please.”

“Alright….” Kravitz replied, still doubtful. Nevertheless, he dug around in the kit for some antiseptic. “This is gonna sting,” he added, applying it to a cotton pad.

Taako just nodded, and didn't even make a noise when it did, in fact, sting. Kravitz carefully wiped at all the cuts in his boyfriend's hands, then also the one on his face.

After Taako's palms were carefully, if shoddily, wrapped in gauze (“I’m not a medic, you know,” Kravitz offered in defense) and fingers covered in Fantasy Band-Aids, Kravitz stowed the kit and helped his boyfriend onto his feet again. He looked at him carefully for a moment. “What do you want to do?”

“Let’s just… sit for a while.  Be a dear and grab some wine?”

Kravitz just nodded and headed to the kitchen as Taako went and collapsed on their couch and  _ refused _ to think about the past hour. But of course, by trying not to think about something, you often end up thinking about it anyway. Needless to say, Taako was relieved when Kravitz came back with their alcoholic distraction. He swiped the glass from Kravitz’s hands before he even sat down, and Kravitz huffed a laugh as he settled down next to him. He held it awkwardly, gripping the stem gingerly between two fairly undamaged fingers, but it got the job done. He tipped the glass back and chugged it with gusto.

With only dregs remaining in the glass, he lowered it before squeezing his eyes shut and pressing the back of his hand to his mouth in an attempt to fight the wine down and make it  _ stay _ down. After a few agonized moments of desperate swallowing, his stomach settled and he opened his eyes to find Kravitz staring at him with that concerned expression again.

“What?” Taako asked, feeling weirdly defensive.

Kravitz doesn’t tend to beat around the bush. “What  _ happened, _ Taako?” There was a plea in his voice.

Taako grimaced, reaching for the bottle again. He refilled his glass, taking much slower sips this time.

Kravitz waited.

Maybe if he took long enough he wouldn’t have to answer. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

A few more seconds passed in relative silence, and as he hoped for, Kravitz broke it. Although it didn’t exactly help his resolve. “I’m just worried about you, you know,” he whispered into the mostly-darkness.

And Taako so desperately wanted to blow it off, say there was nothing to worry about, but Lup's voice floated into his mind from a previous conversation.  _ “You've got to be honest with him, Taako, if you want to make it work.” _ And he can't believe he's taking relationship advice from a woman who spent forty years pining after a fuckin’ nerd, but part of him knows she's right. So he takes a deep breath.

“I don't — I don't know, okay? I don't know.” He releases a shaky breath, staring straight ahead. He feels gentle fingers cover his own. 

“Do you remember anything about what happened?”

Taako takes a sip of his wine and a moment to steel himself. “It was just… dark, I guess, and then I just… felt like I was back there, traveling with… with Sazed. And it felt so real, and it felt so normal, I was just… waiting for him to come back. I was making cookies, and the thunderclap scared me, and I broke the bowl. And I got so scared about how angry he was gonna be, that I just started picking shit up by hand without really thinking about it. And then you came in, and I didn't recognize you….” He sniffed. “Honestly, the fact that it felt so easy and natural is so… scary.”

Kravitz's thumb was rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand, but Taako suddenly decided he needed much more contact. He didn't so much lean on Kravitz as let his body weight fall on him, causing wine to slosh dangerously in both glasses. Kravitz took the hint and moved his arm to wrap around Taako's shoulders, pulling him even closer.

Kravitz set his glass down on the coffee table in front of them, then took Taako's glass from his relenting fingers and set it down next to it. A few more tears leaked out from Taako's eyes, leftovers from the overwhelming fear, and he clutches Kravitz's shirt, breathing in his calming scent. Kravitz leans down to press a kiss to the crown of his head and Taako feels a bit more tension leave his body. In the relative calm, a thought occurs to him. “Why were you even outside?” Taako asked. “And why aren't you wet?”

“The storm damaged the electro-magic generator that powers the lights, and I went out to check on it. And when I came in, I just changed into my astral form and changed back in order to lazily dry off,” Kravitz replied with a small smile. “When I came in, though, the wind took the door and slammed it open.”

Taako nodded absently, “I heard that much.” Now that he's reminded of it, he does remember that generator; a gift from Lucas Miller, in order to right some of the wrongs he did. Electric lighting still feels like a weird concept.

“My turn for a question,” Kravitz returned. “Why won’t you let me heal you?”

Taako sighed a bit, looked at his hands. The bandages were red where the biggest gashes were, but the bleeding seemed to be slowing. They still throbbed with a mild pain. “Because the pain keeps me here, instead of wandering away inside my brain.”

Kravitz just nodded a bit at that.

After a few seconds of silence, Kravitz spoke again. “I know this isn't what you want to hear, love, but you really should go see a therapist.”

Taako grimaced and straightened up, reaching for the wine. “You're right, it isn't.” He took a swig, then continued, “Why go to a shrink when I've got this —” he gestures with the wine in his hand, “— and my lovely boyfriend here to listen?” He batted his eyelashes.

“Because they're actually trained to help you?” Kravitz said. When Taako glanced back at him, Kravitz's expression was gentle. “I don't know what to do, Taako, I don't know how to help you, and I so want to help you. This is the only way I can think of. I don't want you to suffer anymore, with those flashbacks, those nightmares. I want what's best for you, to make sure you're happy.”

Taako didn't realize he was crying again until he felt cool, gentle fingers wipe away at his tears. He leaned into the touch. Genuine love and kindness without any strings attached still felt like a foreign concept, especially coming from anyone except Lup.

He sighed, and leaned back against Kravitz's side. “Let's talk about this some other time, bubbeleh, like when I'm not drunk. Because I think I drank just enough wine to be —” he yawns, as if to accentuate his point, “— very tired.”

Kravitz smiled a bit. “Shall we move upstairs, then?”

But Taako was already out cold.

Kravitz chuckled, and carried the sleeping elf up to their shared bedroom.

The lights flickered back on as they left the room.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope i could portray the flashback well enough. if anybody experiences vivid flashbacks and wants to correct me on my portrayal, or whatever, feel free to do so
> 
> \--
> 
> feel free to follow my taz tumblr [@zestycheck](https://zestycheck.tumblr.com). I take fic requests + prompts.


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